The Ones Who Get Too Close
by xXSilent-CrescendoXx
Summary: "There is always a choice, Ziva. And I will choose you until the end. So I'm coming with you to your place, or you can come to mine, and we're going to see this through together." Season 11 AU.


**A/N: This is an AU season 11 fic. _Things _have happened that render this completely out of the realm of ever being canon, but, uh, let's roll with it because, hey, if I give up on Tiva there's just no point to me being a fangirl for anything anymore.**

**-Beta read by tumblr user walkingentityofsnark, seriously guys, go check her out, she's pretty amazing :)**

* * *

"If you two are done grabbing ass, I suggest we get out of here," Fornell said, nodding at the other half of the protection detail assigned former NCIS Special Agents DiNozzo and David. Tony bristled at the comment, so familiar in phrasing yet so foreign in inflection; he'd been holding Ziva for less than ten seconds. Ziva, for her part, defiantly grasped at her partner's white dress shirt and pulled him closer to her, breathing in his musky scent as though it were as essential to her survival as oxygen. And, for all intents and purposes, it was.

He was.

"Do we really not have any more time?" Tony asked, meeting the older Agent's eyes with a beseechingly wry smile, "I thought you guys had managed to lose 'em". Fornell sighed, momentarily unable to meet his eyes; the universe had not been kind to these two as of late. Even someone like him, who'd been dealt a hand of heartbreak in his own romantic life, could see, and appreciate, that both Tony and Ziva had found a home in the other. It was this, and the memory of a past conversation with Gibbs over a bottle of Bourbon and a particularly sappy moment in an old Western film in which they'd both promised faithfully to look after those left behind should something happen to either of them, that compelled him to be here with the disgraced pair, looking out for them, ensuring their safety for as long as he could.

The cold night's wind blew forcefully, whipping Ziva's freshly re-styled hair around her face. She shivered, pressing closer into Tony still, who squeezed her tightly once before shifting his eyes up to steal one last glance at the building he'd worked in for more than a decade. "We did, for half an hour." Fornell replied, rolling his eyes, "but since you two lovebirds wanted to take a trip down memory lane and come to the most obvious place in the world to find you-"

"Yeah - got it!" Tony snapped, wincing as Ziva squeezed him tighter. His voice was low, strained with the effort of keeping it in for even a few more hours. When they were alone, he'd break down, he'd allow himself to seek his solace in her as honestly, as deeply as she'd been letting herself come to him recently. But until then he would force himself to keep up this façade of a strong, dependable former Agent. He knew Ziva saw through it, and he was painfully aware of how much it hurt her to have to ask for his comfort when he was still so broken inside now that she was aware of just how similar the two really were. Desperate to reassure her, he stepped out of her embrace and quickly clasped her freezing hand with his own, much warmer one. "Come on, Ziva," he said, though he was not sure whether he was trying more to convince her or himself, "We have to go."

Ziva nodded sharply, letting out a shaky breath. She glanced around quickly, reminding the three men of a rabbit caught in the headlights. The sky was an inky black, the raven canvas broken only by the flashing lights of gliding aircrafts, and the moon was large in the sky. The trees, once full of blossom and new life, held within their fragile leaves the colours of autumn. Everything is ending, she thought solemnly, this day, this season, this year... she could only hope that both her life and Tony's would be spared in this mess that had evolved over the summer.

* * *

_Three months earlier..._

"You have got to be kidding me!" Ziva shouted, slamming her fists down on the table angrily. "I thought you had managed to carry on my father's work with Iran; his efforts to bring peace-"

"Were never going to work," Orli interrupted, trying to be as placatory as she could be whilst still maintaining a professional exterior. Still, she could not help but glance fondly at Ziva over the fuzzy static of MTAC's communications system.

"They might have had they been given the chance to come into fruition." Ziva ground out, fists clenching angrily at her sides in an attempt to calm her rapidly escalating temper. From the corner of her eye she saw Director Vance give her a warning, a non-verbal cue in the way he rolled his toothpick around his mouth. She knew it was time to rein it in because, as much as she liked to hope otherwise, she was not entirely entitled to be there. It was an interesting dynamic for an exceptional situation; though Ziva had resigned as an Agent, Vance still allowed her and the rest of Gibbs' team special benefits. He'd not only grown awfully fond of them over the years, but now they were bound by bloodshed, and when he'd been made aware of Iran's plans for a certain former Special Agent David, he'd not hesitated in the slightest to offer backup, support and resources to the fallen heroes. They had, however, all been surprised when the new Director of Mossad offered the same.

"Ziva, you know as well as I do that the rift between the nations runs deep. Kazmi and your father were trying to accomplish something revolutionary, it is something that we may not yet be ready for, and-"

"And this puts a bounty on my head for what reason, exactly?" Ziva asked, folding her arms and tilting her head to the side, reminding Orli thoroughly of the thirteen year old Ziva she'd once known, the child who'd come to her father's house after her parent's divorce, met Orli for the first time, and petulantly whined: "I know who she is, but what is she doing here?"

"Please try to understand I am doing my best to stop it going that far, bu-"

"A price has already been named, has it not?"

Orli sighed reluctantly, but in the face of the adult version of the child who'd hated her so, she was powerless against the urge to please Ziva and gain acceptance in her eyes. "Thirteen million US dollars."

Ziva's mouth fell open and she was shocked into silence: thirteen million dollars? "That is a... an awful lot of money" she said, voice breaking slightly. Tony, who was a little less impressed with the whole situation, scoffed loudly in the background, informing everybody of his arrival. Ziva turned around and questioningly raised an eyebrow.

"Not nearly enough, I'd say." Tony started, making his way to stand eye-to-eye with her. The emerald shine in his tired eyes betrayed nothing beyond his usual affection, admiration, and subtle adoration of her, and though the part of Ziva that had grasped a firm appreciation of American sarcasm begged to ask what exactly his ideal price for her would be she stayed silent. Words were unnecessary, as had always been the case between them. Ziva's eyes softened, and she uncrossed her arms to let her arms fall by her side. Tony took her right hand with his left and intertwined their fingers, forgetting about the powerful people they were sharing a room with. They stood like that for several seconds, seeking understanding and solidarity in their silence, and when Tony spoke again, his voice was softer, more intimate;"What can I do?"

"Tony, I-"

"You need to run." Orli cut in, earning herself a pointed glare from both Tony and Ziva. "I mean it, these people, they will stop at nothing. You know that, you have seen for yourself the end result of their viol-"

"I am well aware of what could happen," Ziva cut in, voice controlled and dangerous. Yes, she knew very well the likely outcome of this situation, the memories of countless funerals all too ingrained within her left her no choice but to realise the risks. "Thank you for the information, Director Elbaz, if you will excuse me, I need a moment." With that, Ziva turned around on the door, motioning for Tony to join her.

They walked in silence to their cars, Ziva playing the conversation over and over again in her mind. Tony caught the vacant expression in her eyes, the haunted look of the hunted, and spun her around gently by her shoulders, ignoring the way she tensed up. "Hey!" He said, an urgency evident in his tone. Ziva stared at him, not knowing what to say, where to look, what to do. "I will not let them get you."

"You may not have a choi-"

"There is _always_ a choice, Ziva. And I will choose you until the end. So I'm coming with you to your place, or you can come to mine, and we're going to see this through together."

"At lo levad?" She questioned, tilting her head to one side, not quite smiling. Truth is, she'd love to shut him out, to keep him at an arm's distance to keep him safe like she'd been doing for so long, but in this year alone she'd lost both her real father and the man she considered as good as any surrogate. Both, she still thought, had to leave her life as a result of her own poor judgement and actions; there is only so much heartbreak a human can take. Just this once, she'd be kind to herself and cling on to him. Not that he was giving her much choice. Tony smiled wanly, and reached up to smooth a wayward curl, noting the way her pulse jumped and her eyes widened as he did so.

"Yeah, something like that."

* * *

**... capture your fancy? **


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